Authors: Sara Elizabeth Santana
“Get on the treadmill,” one of the doctors said, pressing a few buttons on the console. I hesitated, and he glared at me, casting a glance over at Razi, who was sitting in a chair, watching with careful eyes.
I climbed up on the treadmill, my hands sliding over the smooth rails. My legs were like jelly, and I didn’t know how they expected me to run.
He started me off at a slow speed, more of a crawl, and I took careful steps forward as the conveyor belt moved, my hands locked on the handrails. He watched as I did so, making little notes on his clipboard. I wanted to grab it and crack it over his head, but I continued walking. Every few minutes or so, he would increase the speed until I finally was at a steady run.
My heart was pounding in my chest, and I could feel a stitch in my side, but the sight of all these quiet, watchful adults terrified me, and I kept the pace, focused on the bright red numbers on the console in front of me. A mile passed, then two and then three, and I wondered when he would make me stop. I was tired, oh so tired, and I didn’t want to do it anymore.
Miraculously, right before I hit the four-mile mark, he decreased the speed tremendously, and I spent the remainder of it walking slowly on my wobbly legs. The conveyor belt came to a rest, and I nearly collapsed.
“That is enough,” Razi spoke, her loud voice carrying across the large room. “Bring her back over to me.”
The doctor grabbed my arm roughly and pulled me across the room to Razi, depositing me in a chair in front of her. I collapsed in it gratefully. I watched as she flipped her way through the clipboards they had handed her, nodding and shaking her head at whatever she read there.
Finally, she looked at me, an encouraging smile on her face. “I have a very important question for you, Zoey, and I need you to answer as honestly as you possibly can. It is vital.”
I didn’t answer, and she took that as acquiesce.
“Zoey, when was your last menstrual cycle?”
I opened my mouth to reply and then immediately shut it. I hadn’t thought about that in so long, months. It wasn’t the first thing on my mind. Surviving, having enough to eat, training to be able to fight the Awakened were all things that had been more important to me. How had I not noticed? “Um, December? I think December?”
“Right around the first attacks?” she supplied and I nodded, wrinkling my brow, confused. I was steady, on a perfect 28-day cycle ever since I was fourteen years old.
Razi noticed my confused look as she made notes on the clipboard in front of her. “It’s not surprising given the circumstances. I would imagine that you have not eaten well in the past months, and I have no doubt that you’ve been under high levels of stress.”
“You could say that,” I muttered under my breath, rolling my eyes.
She ignored me. “Often times, a women will stop ovulating and skip periods because of changes in the body. An abrupt change in diet, an emotional upheaval, massive amounts of stress are all examples of what would cause your period to stop.” She paused, her pen poised on the paper. “There is no chance of you being pregnant, is there? I will not be getting that surprise when your test results come back?”
I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Definitely not.”
She nodded, satisfied. “You’re healthy, incredibly so, given the circumstances. So many of the survivors we’ve managed to track down aren’t nearly as healthy and vital as you. You have a strong body. You will do well for us.”
I smirked. I couldn’t help it. I was scared, tired, hungry again and still thirsty. Sarcasm was my last refuge. “What am I going to be doing? Manual labor? Literally building the utopia?”
Razi smiled, oblivious to my sarcasm and attitude. “You are going to be much more important to us than that, Miss Valentine. You are very precious to us.” He turned to her lackeys. “Let’s get her started on an exercise program. I want vitamins added to her diet and a healthy amount of liquids. I want her to be ready and fertile, soon.”
I shot up in my seat, looking at her with surprise. “Excuse me? Fertile?”
Her smile grew even wider. “We’ve managed to bring in so many women to Sekhmet, but so many of them have been older, no use to use where we really need it. Finding you, Zoey, so young and healthy and full of vitality, was a godsend.”
It dawned on me suddenly, why I was so important above the rest. I was young, untouched and unblemished by the effects of aging. Sure, I had scars but those weren’t genetic. I was fairly healthy and was just stock full of exactly what they needed to build a new race. I could give them new lives, new people to breed to their ideals. I felt sick to my stomach.
“You’re going to use me to build your perfect race,” I spat out, repulsed at the thought of someone touching me. My thoughts flashed to Ash, and I felt a pang go through my chest.
“We hope to find more young girls like yourself soon,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I would not want the burden to fall too heavily on your shoulders. But, yes, we want you pregnant and soon.”
“You’re disgusting. You’re horrible, vile, wretched, and I hate you!” I spat out at her, standing up. Hands immediately grabbed at me, but Razi looked bored.
“Take her back to her room,” she said, dismissing me, “her new room.”
They dragged me, kicking and screaming, back to the second floor. They didn’t take me back to my first room; instead they took me to a new one. I was practically thrown in the room. I tripped, crashing to me knees on the ground. I turned to run back at them, but they slammed the door in my face. I was alone again.
MY NEW ROOM HAD A CLOCK.
It wasn’t the only thing in the room, but it was the thing in the room that I hated the most. It hung high above the door. I immediately went to grab a chair, to tear it down from the wall so I wouldn’t have to agonize over time passing but it was a no go. The chair, along with the rest of the furniture, was bolted to the ground.
My new room felt like a hotel room, much more comfortable than the room I had before. This one had a bed, at least a full size, with a thick gray comforter and two comfortable pillows. There was a separate bathroom, equipped with a sink, toilet and shower. There was a desk, though I wasn’t sure what I would need it for. There was also a dresser, full of clothes identical to the ones I was already wearing, including clean underwear. I lifted them out, feeling the soft fabric under my fingers. They weren’t anything that you would find on a rack at Victoria’s Secret or anything, but it was definitely better than the ones I was currently wearing.
Directly across from the bed was the entrance to the bathroom, complete with a sink, toilet and shower. I ran a hand through my greasy, tangled hair and reached for the knob. I was shocked when a blast of hot water came bursting out of the showerhead. I peeled my clothes off leaving them in a pile on the floor and stepped into the shower, pulling the door closed behind me.
After I showered, I went back into the room with a towel wrapped tightly around me. I stared at the clothing in the drawers, wishing that I had anything else to put on except those. I stared at them for a long time before caving in and slipping into a brand new pair of underwear, clean pair of socks, a bra and a dark green scrub like shirt and baggy brown pants. I felt like a tree.
I climbed into the bed, not bothering to pull the covers down. I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling. I noticed a small black globe above me and swallowed hard. I didn’t even want to know what that camera was for. I drifted to sleep, my eyes glued to the camera that was sure to have someone monitoring me.
I woke up the next morning (or at least, I thought it was morning) when I heard a loud pounding on the door to my room. I sat up quickly, my hand immediately going to my hair. It was still damp and stuck up in random places, and I yawned. The loud knocking sounded through the room again, and I felt a wave of irritation roll through me. Was the knocking really necessary at this point?
“What?” I grumbled.
The door swung open, and the nurse from the day before, Tommy, came in, this time without his companion. He wheeled a tray in front of him. I looked at it and saw the familiar silver gleam of the dome that covered a meal. He rolled it over to the bed and lifted the cover without any flourish. Underneath was a simple breakfast of oatmeal, eggs, orange juice and toast. I looked up at him, raising my eyebrows.
“You’re not leaving the room until you eat, so I would suggest you eat,” he answered, sitting in the chair in front of the desk.
“I’m not exactly inclined to leave the room, so that’s kind of an empty threat,” I said, folding my arms across my chest, refusing to acknowledge the loud grumbling that was coming from my stomach.
Tommy smirked. “You’re a feisty one, aren’t you? You’re lucky you’re young and at a great breeding age, or Dr. Cylon wouldn’t put up with this.”
“Ah, yes,” I said, ignoring the way my heart beat frantically in my chest. I was not a cow. I was not a pig. I was a person, and I wasn’t going to be sent in for breeding. “My whole purpose for being here. I’m still not going to eat.”
“You will if you want your little friend to stay alive,” he said. His voice was casual, like he was merely commenting on the weather and not the life of an actual human being. He had given me some information though: Ash was alive.
Or they could be totally pretending he was alive in order to get me to do what they wanted. I had to believe he was alive. I had to do whatever I could to keep him alive.
I lifted the fork and dug into the eggs. They were sunny side up, and I grimaced. Not my favorite but my stomach gurgled happily. Tommy relaxed, and we remained in silence as I finished up most of the breakfast. I gulped down the orange juice and set the cup down on the tray. Everything was plastic, I noted. I sighed. They weren’t stupid enough to stick a real knife in my hand, or a glass that I could break and use as…well, some sort of a weapon.
“Happy?” I asked.
“Let’s go,” he said, standing up and reaching for me. I leaned backward, away from his touch, and he glared at me. “It really would make your life so much easier if you didn’t fight me on this.”
“Where are we going?” I said, continuing to lean away from him.
He smiled, and a flash of perfect, white teeth blinded me. He was incredibly handsome, so much that he would have stopped me in my tracks had I seen him walking down the streets. Despite this though, I felt no attraction at all. I didn’t feel revulsion or hatred toward him either. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Before I could even think to stop him, a pair of silver, gleaming cuffs were wrapped tightly around my wrists, bind them together. I looked up at him, feeling a flutter in the pit of my stomach. They felt heavy against the pale, thinness of my wrists, and I swallowed hard. “Really? Handcuffs?” I asked, trying to keep the anxiety from rising in my voice. “There’s a compliment in there somewhere.”
Tommy grabbed me roughly, pulling me through the door. He guided me down a short hallway which came to an end at a crossroads. He took the left hallway, and we made our way into an elevator. It was quiet, barely making a sound as we moved up a few floors. I made a mental note that I was on the seventh floor.
The elevator was small; only a couple more people would have been able to fit inside with the two of us. It was mirrored, and I caught myself staring at my reflection. It had felt like ages since I had looked at myself in the mirror. I was smaller, thinner. My cheekbones stood out in my pale skin, something I was not used to. I had always had a dark olive tone, courtesy of my dad’s Italian background, but it was all but a memory. The scar across my face was pink and raised, so obviously marring the beauty that I once believed I had.
The shirt I was wearing billowed around me, tight across the chest, as usual, but much roomier everywhere else. I pressed a palm to my ribcage and winced at the hard bones I felt there. I felt so tired, and I looked it too.
The elevator doors slid open almost silently, and Tommy directed me down another few hallways before sliding a thin black card, credit card sized, through a slot, taking us into a small room. It was simply furnished; there was a wooden table in the middle, with sturdy chairs placed around it. A bookshelf was in the corner, stocked full of books, though I could not see the titles from where I stood. There was also a flat screen TV. I stared at it for a moment wondering what would happen if I turned it on. Surely, there were no television stations left to broadcast anything.
Tommy forced me into a chair, and I started to glare up at him when he leaned over and removed the handcuffs from my wrists. I rubbed them, feeling the absence, and sat back in the chair. I watched as he went over to a panel on the wall, something I had missed before, and pressed a few selections on the screen before turning and walking out of the room. He spared not a single glance back at me.
I sighed, pressing my palms tight against my eyes. I wanted to lie across the smooth cold surface of the table, fall asleep and possibly never wake up. The books that were sitting neatly on the shelves seemed to be calling my name, but I couldn’t muster up the energy to get up and look. I scanned the ceiling for the familiar black globe that told me they were watching and wasn’t shocked. I had no doubt that there was someone watching my every move. I leaned back in my chair, feeling like I was being put through some sort of test.
I was just about to give up and either grab a book or turn on the television when the door swung open and Tommy returned. I opened my mouth to say something but felt the words catch in my throat as someone came into the room behind him.
He didn’t look much different than the last time I had seen him, except that he had the same tired look that I did, the look of defeat, the look of constant survival. His sandy blond hair had grown a bit and was just touching the collar of his shirt. He had thinned out a bit as well, and I could see that the pants he wore were slung low on his hips, barely held up. Green eyes met brown, and the corner of his mouth twitched, just slightly.
“Zoey,” he said simply. His southern accent was still there, thick, drawling and almost comforting.
“Liam,” I answered in shock. There was a part of me that was compelled to get up, run to him and throw my arms around him but it was as if my body had a mind of its own, and I stayed glued to the hardwood chair.
Tommy glanced between us, his eyebrow raised. “You two already know each other?”
Liam looked back at him, a barely concealed look of contempt on his face. “You could say that.”
Tommy didn’t show any sign of noticing Liam’s negativity. “Well, this might make your job a whole lot easier.” He stared at me for a beat, studying me; I felt a blush creep onto my face and looked away. “Okay, um, enjoy yourself.” He left the room.
Liam and I studied each other for a long moment before he crossed the small room and sat in the chair across from. “Zoey,” he repeated.
“Liam.” I couldn’t believe that he was sitting in front of me. Of all the people in the world, he was the last person I expected to be sitting in a seat across from me. I remembered the way he had made me feel all those months ago and knew it had been nothing, absolutely nothing, when compared to the overwhelming way I felt for Ash. My heart clenched at the thought of him, and my hands circled in tight fists, my fingernails biting in the soft flesh of my palms.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, leaning back in his chair and staring at me.
“I can’t believe
you’re
here,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re literally the last person I ever expected to see here…or anywhere really. I thought you were on your way to Sanctuary.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in that,” Liam said, his mouth curling up in a smile. It was not as strong as it once was, but it still made me feel like smiling myself.
I traced the patterns of wood on the table with my fingertip. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”
Liam stayed quiet for a long while before speaking again. “We were making our way out to Sanctuary, camping out before we made the last trek out to Mesa Verde when we were ambushed by Awakened. A group of men came out of nowhere and helped us take them down. My dad thought they were from Sanctuary and was ready to trust them, but…but I knew something was wrong.”
“Are Memphis and Julia here too?”
He shook his head. “I told them to go, run. They weren’t happy about it, but once the men started pulling syringes out of their pockets, I made them. The men didn’t seem so keen on catching up with Mom and Dad. Makes sense now though.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Haven’t they told you why they were so excited to find you? This whole place was buzzing when you came in,” Liam said, the sarcasm spilling from his voice.
I felt a flush fill my cheeks again at the though. Everyone in this place knew about me when I was brought in, and they knew exactly why. “Right. I guess Memphis and Julia aren’t exactly at the child-bearing age.” I stopped. “Wait, why did the put us together? Why…”
“Think about it, Zoey,” Liam said, his arms folded tight across his chest. His arms were so much thinner than the last time I saw them, and I felt an uncomfortable twitch in my stomach at the sight of the translucent tone of his skin.
It took me a moment to process what he was saying. Everything was moving so slowly. Then it sunk in, and I felt the flush on my face deepen, threatening to set my face on fire. “They want you…and I…they want us to…” I couldn’t even get the words out. “Oh god.”
“At twenty-four years old, I’m a perfect age to become a father, at my peak,” Liam said. “Their words, not mine. All they needed was someone for me to ‘mate’ with.” His words were dripping with disgust. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself. “There are plenty of women here around my age, but they aren’t qualified to be mothers, I guess. They have their own jobs in this crazy place.”
“I’m guessing Razi filled you in about her crazy idea,” I said, feeling like I was about to lose my breakfast at any moment.